Chapter 7
Broomsticks, Coffins and Rope
Harry soon got back into the routine of term, however he deeply missed the long Quidditch practices and as the hot days turned into the warm purple twilight that cloaked the players, Harry watched miserably from the castle. There were two major differences from previous years; the homework they received was huge, and many hours were spent pouring over books in the library and studying in the Gryffindor Common Room. The other major difference was the guards around the school, giants. This caused uproar at first, but now it was a common sight to see men of ten or twelve feet high, skulking around the school searching for any intruders. Hagrid confided in Harry that they were actually distant relatives, his uncles' father's second cousins, or something. Dumbledore had banned the Daily Prophet from the students, as he believed it would distract them from their studies. This meant wild rumours including occasional whispers that Voldemort had assuredly returned. Harry even heard in the dining hall one breakfast the rumour that Karkaroff was dead. Harry however gave little thought to the happenings of the world outside of Hogwarts. He had enough to think about. The Slytherins had found out that Harry wasn't training for Quidditch, and were very confused. At first they thought he was injured, but as Harry appeared to be in perfect health this rumour was quickly quashed. Their next ideas were that either he was in trouble, and banned, or that he was too scared to go outside. Harry didn't know which was worst, the Slytherin's taunting him because he was afraid of dementors or giants, or Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs telling him they were very sorry about his punishment, however he thought it best to keep the real reason he wasn't playing secret. It might lead to awkward questions. Harry was also nervous about the forthcoming Quidditch match. It was over a year since he'd played Quidditch in a match, and any match with the Slytherins was bound to be rough. Still he was looking forward to the freedom of being on his broom, on his own, with his only worry, searching for a tiny golden ball. The first match was soon upon them. Harry felt the usual butterflies circling in his stomach as he attempted to eat his breakfast before the match. He'd spent the week trying to avoid the legs of the Slytherins, who had somehow found that he was playing, and were now determined to trip him up. Temperatures had been running high with both Slytherin and Gryffindor relishing the chance to trade insults. We've got to win, at least three Gryffindor's would tell Harry every day. Even Fred and George were feeling the pressure, which was something Harry had never seen before. As Harry got changed into his red and gold strip, George approached him looking nervous, "Look if we've ever needed to get the snitch early, and get an early win, it's today. No pressure or anything." Harry emerged onto the smooth Quidditch Pitch his trusty Firebolt under his arm. He mounted, and immediately he felt calmer. He quickly flew high above the crowds seated in the terraces. He could see for miles, beyond the Forbidden Forest, and behind Hogwarts, and over the lake. Harry suddenly felt very happy and peaceful, away from all his worries. Down, what seemed miles he could make out tiny blobs, and he was sure he could make out the tall hat and grey beard of Professor Dumbledore. Harry felt so free he did a loop the loop, he bent low over his broom, sped very fast, pointed his broom downwards, and round, and then he was back upright again. Harry felt exhilarated. He did a few more just for fun. All too soon he heard the bell clang indicating the start of the match. Harry flew a little lower, and started to search for the snitch. Lee Jordan was busy with his subjective commentary regularly punctuated by Professor McGonegall, but Harry wasn't listening. The game was already becoming nasty. The Slytherin beaters, were doing a very good job, Lizzy had only just missed a bludger in the face, but was saved by a quick beat by Fred, which skimmed the bridge of her nose. After almost an hour, Harry had still not seen even a sniff of the snitch. Malfoy hadn't either, and they were both becoming hot and bothered, while the beaters, and catchers below were hot and sweaty. The score stood at 100 to 120 to Slytherin, but it was closely fought. Harry was getting extremely thirsty as the midday sun beat fiercely on his head. He couldn't keep his mind from wandering. He remembered the Quidditch World Cup, and Krum, and the incredible Wronski Feint. Harry immediately saw the best opportunity to test the Wronski Feint. He circled a few times, over the pitch watching Lizzy spectacularly saving a shot hurled at the furthest hoop. Harry suddenly dived, as he'd never dived before. He went straight down, out of the corner of his eye he saw Malfoy follow him. Harry concentrated on a small patch of grass, around him the players of both teams had stopped to watch him in amazement. At the last possible moment, Harry pulled out of the dive, and feeling the damp grass touching his knees, he shot back up to the level of the goal hoops. Below him Harry could see Malfoy, his broom driven hard into the cracked earth. Even from this distance Harry could see that it looked distinctly bent. Malfoy was lying on the grass, but appeared to be more winded than anything else. Harry was abruptly aware of the huge cheers that had erupted from the stand. Even some of the Slytherins were cheering. Surely such a move had not been seen at Hogwarts. Malfoy was now getting up, and throwing his bent broom angrily on the floor. However he wouldn't have a school broom, so mounted his bent Nimbus and took to the air. However the impact had had an affect on the broom. It no longer flew smoothly, and would make odd bucking motions. Harry returned to his original height, pleased with his success. Malfoy appeared a little distance away. He was furious, and was telling Harry that he would have to pay for a new broom, when Harry spotted the Snitch. He immediately plummeted towards the ground, right underneath Malfoy, hearing Malfoy's angry voice yelling above him, "Do you think I'm stupid enough to fall for that again," Harry's fingers closed around the golden ball, its wings beat futilely against his hands. He lifted it high, did a last loop and headed down to the pitch. The crowds in the stands were wild. Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin. No one could remember such a match. The Gryffindor team landed around Harry, and lifted him high into the air. Harry was euphoric. The feasting lasted well into the night. Ron, kept telling Harry, "That Wronski Feint, incredible, even Krum couldn't do better" and "The look on Malfoy's face, the best moment of my life" However the evening was finished properly when Fred announced to the common room that the Slytherins were considering dropping Malfoy, after his terrible mistake. Over a large jug of Butter beer, Harry saw Lizzy, chattering with her friends. Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks pink. Ron was watching her closely. Hermione interrupted his thoughts, as she remarked that possibly the only disappointment to the day was that Snape hadn't been there to see Slytherin's defeat.
Late that night Harry eventually found himself in bed. The window was open letting a cool breath of air creep in. Harry fell asleep almost at once, and dreamt. Harry was standing in a graveyard. It was dark, and the only light came from two fires lit at opposite ends of a grave. The black shadows of the gravestones danced menacingly in the firelight. Harry knew that this wasn't a nice place to be. The dark trees leered at him in the dark, but there was something else there, something evil. He could just make out three people. One of them he knew by the pain in his scar was Voldemort. A man was digging at the grave. The whole scene seemed to be deadly quiet. There was just the scrape, grating rasp of the shovel, and the dull thud as the soil mounted at the side. What were they doing? The second wizard was bent over the fire, throwing some kind of powder into the greedy flames. This resulted in a hiss from the fire. Unexpectedly the digger hit some kind of wooden box, and climbed out of the grave. Using his wand the coffin was lifted out of the grave. The tallest wizard, Harry now knew must be Voldemort, bent over the coffin, and appeared to be talking. Voldemort took out a silver dagger, and held his wrist over the coffin. The knife glowed a light blue, and Voldemort held it aloft. With the knife he made a deep cut up his pale forearm. Harry tried to close his eyes to shut out the image, but he couldn't. Voldemort's black blood dripped onto the coffin. The man that had stood over the fire, then joined Voldemort, carrying his wand. He touched all four corners of the coffin, leaving behind a sharp blue flame that danced evilly on the lid, before engulfing the whole coffin, and Voldemort's arm in the fire. Voldemort withdrew his arm, and as it left Harry could see a pale form emerging from the smoke of the burning coffin. It curled together to produce, a thin lady. She was screaming, but not out loud, Harry could hear her pained voice inside his head. He tried to block it out, but it went on and on. Harry could see Voldemort talking to her, and somehow he knew that the poor woman was answering, but against her will. Her pitiful scream split through Harry's head, and he awoke in his bed at Hogwarts, his scar hurting and his head aching.
The next day Harry tried hard to forget the things he had seen in his dream, but he had a sickness in the pit of his stomach which remained throughout the day, as did the stinging of the scar. The lessons with Professor Jenai were very interesting. The first few weeks had been a lot of theory, but they were just moving onto practical. One morning in late November Harry and his class were surprised to see all the tables moved to the side of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and instead lots of large bouncy cushions littering the floor. Professor Jenai was at her usual place, sitting on the edge of the teacher's desk. "Right now fifth years. It's about time for some practical work." The class exchanged smiles. "Now I am supposed to teach you a few basic spells to help you if you ever get into difficulties" Again Professor Jenai's startling green eyes were boring into Harry. He blushed slightly and lowered his eyes. "However," she continued seductively "there is little you can practice if you are not already in the situation, and therefore I must teach you a little Dark Arts spell first. Now this spell is easily blockable, and the counter spell is the ristennin charm. Make note." She said sharply. The class fumbled for quills and parchment.
"Now the spell is Gwidir Taugia, and will bind the person you point your wand at. Now in reality this is a practice spell, it will not bind tightly, and would be fairly easy to wriggle out of. It is very unlikely that any Dark Arts wizard worth his or her salt would use it on you. The only reason we will use it is so you can learn how to untie people. Obviously if you are tied up yourselves it is unlikely that you will be able to free yourselves. You need another person to free you. The untying spell which is of the most use, as it will counter most binding spells is Narcannen Ristennen." The class were silent, eagerly writing down every word. "Well then, what are you waiting for? Try it for yourselves." Hermione paired off with Neville while Ron and Harry stood opposite each other. Ron moved fastest and with a quick Gwidir Taugia Harry found himself wrapped quite tightly with thick brown ropes. He could move his fingers, but that was about all. So much for it being easy to get out of thought Harry. Ron grinned at him and then sat down on one of the cushions. "How about the counter-curse?" Harry demanded. Ron remained seated and grinned at Harry completely covered with rope. Harry waddled towards him, as fast as he could while his legs were bound in thick cord. Three steps away from Ron he stumbled, tripped and fell headlong onto Ron, knocking Neville flying just as Hermione said Gwidir Taugia. Hermione's spell zoomed over Neville's head and bound Professor Jenai tightly in rope from head to toe. The class fell silent, and stared at Hermione who was facing Professor Jenai with her wand outstretched. There was a huge pause, and then Hermione mumbled Narcannen Ristennen, and the ropes fell away. Her face flushed scarlet with embarrassment, and she quickly apologized. Professor Jenai looked angrily at Ron, and told Hermione that she understood perfectly that it was an accident. However Hermione got a lot of angry looks from many boys throughout the school when it was found out that she'd tied up Professor Jenai.
Broomsticks, Coffins and Rope
Harry soon got back into the routine of term, however he deeply missed the long Quidditch practices and as the hot days turned into the warm purple twilight that cloaked the players, Harry watched miserably from the castle. There were two major differences from previous years; the homework they received was huge, and many hours were spent pouring over books in the library and studying in the Gryffindor Common Room. The other major difference was the guards around the school, giants. This caused uproar at first, but now it was a common sight to see men of ten or twelve feet high, skulking around the school searching for any intruders. Hagrid confided in Harry that they were actually distant relatives, his uncles' father's second cousins, or something. Dumbledore had banned the Daily Prophet from the students, as he believed it would distract them from their studies. This meant wild rumours including occasional whispers that Voldemort had assuredly returned. Harry even heard in the dining hall one breakfast the rumour that Karkaroff was dead. Harry however gave little thought to the happenings of the world outside of Hogwarts. He had enough to think about. The Slytherins had found out that Harry wasn't training for Quidditch, and were very confused. At first they thought he was injured, but as Harry appeared to be in perfect health this rumour was quickly quashed. Their next ideas were that either he was in trouble, and banned, or that he was too scared to go outside. Harry didn't know which was worst, the Slytherin's taunting him because he was afraid of dementors or giants, or Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs telling him they were very sorry about his punishment, however he thought it best to keep the real reason he wasn't playing secret. It might lead to awkward questions. Harry was also nervous about the forthcoming Quidditch match. It was over a year since he'd played Quidditch in a match, and any match with the Slytherins was bound to be rough. Still he was looking forward to the freedom of being on his broom, on his own, with his only worry, searching for a tiny golden ball. The first match was soon upon them. Harry felt the usual butterflies circling in his stomach as he attempted to eat his breakfast before the match. He'd spent the week trying to avoid the legs of the Slytherins, who had somehow found that he was playing, and were now determined to trip him up. Temperatures had been running high with both Slytherin and Gryffindor relishing the chance to trade insults. We've got to win, at least three Gryffindor's would tell Harry every day. Even Fred and George were feeling the pressure, which was something Harry had never seen before. As Harry got changed into his red and gold strip, George approached him looking nervous, "Look if we've ever needed to get the snitch early, and get an early win, it's today. No pressure or anything." Harry emerged onto the smooth Quidditch Pitch his trusty Firebolt under his arm. He mounted, and immediately he felt calmer. He quickly flew high above the crowds seated in the terraces. He could see for miles, beyond the Forbidden Forest, and behind Hogwarts, and over the lake. Harry suddenly felt very happy and peaceful, away from all his worries. Down, what seemed miles he could make out tiny blobs, and he was sure he could make out the tall hat and grey beard of Professor Dumbledore. Harry felt so free he did a loop the loop, he bent low over his broom, sped very fast, pointed his broom downwards, and round, and then he was back upright again. Harry felt exhilarated. He did a few more just for fun. All too soon he heard the bell clang indicating the start of the match. Harry flew a little lower, and started to search for the snitch. Lee Jordan was busy with his subjective commentary regularly punctuated by Professor McGonegall, but Harry wasn't listening. The game was already becoming nasty. The Slytherin beaters, were doing a very good job, Lizzy had only just missed a bludger in the face, but was saved by a quick beat by Fred, which skimmed the bridge of her nose. After almost an hour, Harry had still not seen even a sniff of the snitch. Malfoy hadn't either, and they were both becoming hot and bothered, while the beaters, and catchers below were hot and sweaty. The score stood at 100 to 120 to Slytherin, but it was closely fought. Harry was getting extremely thirsty as the midday sun beat fiercely on his head. He couldn't keep his mind from wandering. He remembered the Quidditch World Cup, and Krum, and the incredible Wronski Feint. Harry immediately saw the best opportunity to test the Wronski Feint. He circled a few times, over the pitch watching Lizzy spectacularly saving a shot hurled at the furthest hoop. Harry suddenly dived, as he'd never dived before. He went straight down, out of the corner of his eye he saw Malfoy follow him. Harry concentrated on a small patch of grass, around him the players of both teams had stopped to watch him in amazement. At the last possible moment, Harry pulled out of the dive, and feeling the damp grass touching his knees, he shot back up to the level of the goal hoops. Below him Harry could see Malfoy, his broom driven hard into the cracked earth. Even from this distance Harry could see that it looked distinctly bent. Malfoy was lying on the grass, but appeared to be more winded than anything else. Harry was abruptly aware of the huge cheers that had erupted from the stand. Even some of the Slytherins were cheering. Surely such a move had not been seen at Hogwarts. Malfoy was now getting up, and throwing his bent broom angrily on the floor. However he wouldn't have a school broom, so mounted his bent Nimbus and took to the air. However the impact had had an affect on the broom. It no longer flew smoothly, and would make odd bucking motions. Harry returned to his original height, pleased with his success. Malfoy appeared a little distance away. He was furious, and was telling Harry that he would have to pay for a new broom, when Harry spotted the Snitch. He immediately plummeted towards the ground, right underneath Malfoy, hearing Malfoy's angry voice yelling above him, "Do you think I'm stupid enough to fall for that again," Harry's fingers closed around the golden ball, its wings beat futilely against his hands. He lifted it high, did a last loop and headed down to the pitch. The crowds in the stands were wild. Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin. No one could remember such a match. The Gryffindor team landed around Harry, and lifted him high into the air. Harry was euphoric. The feasting lasted well into the night. Ron, kept telling Harry, "That Wronski Feint, incredible, even Krum couldn't do better" and "The look on Malfoy's face, the best moment of my life" However the evening was finished properly when Fred announced to the common room that the Slytherins were considering dropping Malfoy, after his terrible mistake. Over a large jug of Butter beer, Harry saw Lizzy, chattering with her friends. Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks pink. Ron was watching her closely. Hermione interrupted his thoughts, as she remarked that possibly the only disappointment to the day was that Snape hadn't been there to see Slytherin's defeat.
Late that night Harry eventually found himself in bed. The window was open letting a cool breath of air creep in. Harry fell asleep almost at once, and dreamt. Harry was standing in a graveyard. It was dark, and the only light came from two fires lit at opposite ends of a grave. The black shadows of the gravestones danced menacingly in the firelight. Harry knew that this wasn't a nice place to be. The dark trees leered at him in the dark, but there was something else there, something evil. He could just make out three people. One of them he knew by the pain in his scar was Voldemort. A man was digging at the grave. The whole scene seemed to be deadly quiet. There was just the scrape, grating rasp of the shovel, and the dull thud as the soil mounted at the side. What were they doing? The second wizard was bent over the fire, throwing some kind of powder into the greedy flames. This resulted in a hiss from the fire. Unexpectedly the digger hit some kind of wooden box, and climbed out of the grave. Using his wand the coffin was lifted out of the grave. The tallest wizard, Harry now knew must be Voldemort, bent over the coffin, and appeared to be talking. Voldemort took out a silver dagger, and held his wrist over the coffin. The knife glowed a light blue, and Voldemort held it aloft. With the knife he made a deep cut up his pale forearm. Harry tried to close his eyes to shut out the image, but he couldn't. Voldemort's black blood dripped onto the coffin. The man that had stood over the fire, then joined Voldemort, carrying his wand. He touched all four corners of the coffin, leaving behind a sharp blue flame that danced evilly on the lid, before engulfing the whole coffin, and Voldemort's arm in the fire. Voldemort withdrew his arm, and as it left Harry could see a pale form emerging from the smoke of the burning coffin. It curled together to produce, a thin lady. She was screaming, but not out loud, Harry could hear her pained voice inside his head. He tried to block it out, but it went on and on. Harry could see Voldemort talking to her, and somehow he knew that the poor woman was answering, but against her will. Her pitiful scream split through Harry's head, and he awoke in his bed at Hogwarts, his scar hurting and his head aching.
The next day Harry tried hard to forget the things he had seen in his dream, but he had a sickness in the pit of his stomach which remained throughout the day, as did the stinging of the scar. The lessons with Professor Jenai were very interesting. The first few weeks had been a lot of theory, but they were just moving onto practical. One morning in late November Harry and his class were surprised to see all the tables moved to the side of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and instead lots of large bouncy cushions littering the floor. Professor Jenai was at her usual place, sitting on the edge of the teacher's desk. "Right now fifth years. It's about time for some practical work." The class exchanged smiles. "Now I am supposed to teach you a few basic spells to help you if you ever get into difficulties" Again Professor Jenai's startling green eyes were boring into Harry. He blushed slightly and lowered his eyes. "However," she continued seductively "there is little you can practice if you are not already in the situation, and therefore I must teach you a little Dark Arts spell first. Now this spell is easily blockable, and the counter spell is the ristennin charm. Make note." She said sharply. The class fumbled for quills and parchment.
"Now the spell is Gwidir Taugia, and will bind the person you point your wand at. Now in reality this is a practice spell, it will not bind tightly, and would be fairly easy to wriggle out of. It is very unlikely that any Dark Arts wizard worth his or her salt would use it on you. The only reason we will use it is so you can learn how to untie people. Obviously if you are tied up yourselves it is unlikely that you will be able to free yourselves. You need another person to free you. The untying spell which is of the most use, as it will counter most binding spells is Narcannen Ristennen." The class were silent, eagerly writing down every word. "Well then, what are you waiting for? Try it for yourselves." Hermione paired off with Neville while Ron and Harry stood opposite each other. Ron moved fastest and with a quick Gwidir Taugia Harry found himself wrapped quite tightly with thick brown ropes. He could move his fingers, but that was about all. So much for it being easy to get out of thought Harry. Ron grinned at him and then sat down on one of the cushions. "How about the counter-curse?" Harry demanded. Ron remained seated and grinned at Harry completely covered with rope. Harry waddled towards him, as fast as he could while his legs were bound in thick cord. Three steps away from Ron he stumbled, tripped and fell headlong onto Ron, knocking Neville flying just as Hermione said Gwidir Taugia. Hermione's spell zoomed over Neville's head and bound Professor Jenai tightly in rope from head to toe. The class fell silent, and stared at Hermione who was facing Professor Jenai with her wand outstretched. There was a huge pause, and then Hermione mumbled Narcannen Ristennen, and the ropes fell away. Her face flushed scarlet with embarrassment, and she quickly apologized. Professor Jenai looked angrily at Ron, and told Hermione that she understood perfectly that it was an accident. However Hermione got a lot of angry looks from many boys throughout the school when it was found out that she'd tied up Professor Jenai.